


Everything was Blue (PHIL LESTER)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Phil Lester - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Amazingphil - Freeform, Other, Phil Lester - Freeform, reader - Freeform, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Word count: 2185</p><p>Requested: Yes</p><p>I really like this one, I dunno. I guess it’s good to be back in the saddle and writing requests for you guys again! But now, my request box is empty. Send in some requests or send me characters to write headcanons about!</p><p>Warnings: Yelling, Angst, Fighting, Mentions of vomit and blood, Relationship dispute</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything was Blue (PHIL LESTER)

Everything in your body was running away from the anger, the anger that was buzzing in every vein, every thought, every breath. Your hands were shaking with it, vision blurring as your chest heaved under the weight of breath that burned with fury.

Even then, with the anger and the tension in your muscles, you could feel the tears cooling the anger in your eyes, threatening to run down your face and leave clean marks in the soot of your fury. Pacing the room, you tried to keep your cool, tried to find a reason for Phil to do what he did, but you couldn’t. There were no reasons, maybe there were, but you couldn’t think past the front door that hadn’t opened, your phone that hadn’t rang, Dan who hadn’t picked up when you called.

With a shouted you knotted your fingers in your hair, letting your face contort and the tears spill over.

The clock hit midnight, chiming throughout your empty house. Your knees gave out as you realized that Phil wasn’t going to come home, curling up in a ball as you sobbed. The anger you had felt turned to ice, the fire dissipating until ice water replaced your blood, the tears froze on your chin and then the door opened. It’s slam broke the silence of the house, cracking through your frozen exterior. Phil called your name, happiness in his voice. For a moment you could pretend like nothing happened, like it wasn’t past midnight, like he didn’t call you, like he didn’t have Dan ignore you, and you felt happy.

But then you remembered and the anger tried to burn through your sadness, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t get angry again because you had spent your time angry, six hours of it, and you were exhausted, you were tired, you wanted to sleep. Phil called your name again, removing his jacket and hanging it up, looking around the empty house for your body that was curled up on the ground. He saw the table, decorated with food long cold, and paled.

When he pushed the door open and saw you there, collapsed with your arms wrapped around yourself in a shield, or maybe to hold your body together where it was coming apart at the seams, he gasped and tipped his head back, cursing himself for forgetting something so important.

“Baby,” He whispered, voice cracking the silence and your resolve. Your head whipped around and you pushed yourself to your feet, balling your fists up.

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me,” You sneered, sniffling and wiping your cheeks with the backside of your hand, “You can’t say that to me right now, Phil,” He scoffed, clearly slightly inebriated, “Don’t give me that look,” Your voice shook and you played it off as shaking with anger, but it was so close to breaking, teetering over the edge of sadness over the abyss of oblivion.Phil raised his eyebrows, surprise filling his form.

“Why can’t I?”

“Why can’t you?” You roared, “Because you’re six hours late, Phil! Six hours!” He scoffed and threw his hands up, shaking his head.

“Six hours late for what, exactly? I can’t be late if you’ve never told me to be here at a certain time!” It was your turn to throw your hands up, turning and leaning against the dresser.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you to be here today, Phil, it’s fucking simple.”

“Don’t you curse at me,” He barked, pointing a threatening finger your way, “I haven’t done anything besides go out with my best friend,” You laughed, thick and sarcastic, before turning back to him and shrugging.

“I guess you’re right,” Your voice warbled like your knees and your resolve; every fiber of your being was telling you to give in, to apologize for being a bitch, to go to sleep wrapped in his arms. But you didn’t, you wouldn’t. Too stubborn and too hurt, you wanted to fight. You wanted to curse his name and you wanted him to be as angry and as hurt as you were. It wasn’t exactly nice of you, nor was it fair to Phil, but you didn’t care. You were hurt, afraid for him, alone in your home. “You haven’t done anything; maybe that’s my problem.” Venom leaked from your lips, burning holes into the front of Phil’s ego.

“I’m sorry, are you my mum?” Phil stepped toward you, striking fear in your heart, “I was out with Dan for his Youtube birthday, sorry if that’s a damn crime.” Dan’s Youtube birthday? That was more important than you? Than your relationship with Phil? Four years of love, of companionship washed down the drain for a celebration of a Youtube channel.

“That isn’t a crime,” The energy faded from your voice, suddenly not wanting to argue, suddenly not wanting to breathe or to be awake or to be in the same house as Phil. “Of course, that isn’t a crime. Why would it be? You wanna know what else isn’t a crime?” You stomped to the bed in the middle of the room, snatching up Phil’s pillow and the duvet before throwing them at Phil’s feet, “If you slept on the fucking couch tonight, and every night until you realized what you’ve done.”

Phil smirked, “I thought you said it was what I haven’t done,” He snarked, clearly still unaware of how close you were to breaking, fracturing at the knees and crashing to the ground, “But whatever,” He turned and slammed the door behind him, the walls shaking and the window rattling. You wanted to vomit, to push out whatever was making your stomach turn, making it twist in on itself and send pain radiating through your body.

Finally, when you had been staring at the door for fifteen minutes, your bones turned to glass and shattered, splintering through your skin and leaving red marks of sadness. You collapsed on your bed, barren and feeling lonely. Usually you had arms wound around your waist,  face nuzzled in your neck, lips mouthing silent words against your skin as Phil painted you pink with his love. But laying on the bed every touch, every kiss in the four years of you, and Phil, being You and Phil, turned your body blue. Handprints lacing their fingers with yours were robin’s egg blue dye, like you held hands with the Easter egg dye maker, instead of being pink with Phil’s voice, his fingers keeping the spaces between your fingers warm.

You changed into your pajamas slowly, mourning the loss of the other side of your bed before grabbing another blanket to curl up in on the mattress. The tears came first, soul wracking sobs that contorted your body with anger and sadness that blurred together at the edges, and then the drowsiness came. You swam in and out of consciousness before you drifted off, unaware of Phil looking over the food you had prepared, picking at the cold pasta and lifting up his napkin to inspect the lump underneath it. You slept soundly when he covered his mouth, crying and cursing himself. He remembered, of course, after you were already asleep that, while he was celebrating an anniversary with Dan, he was missing his. After four years of a relationship he left with Dan to go out when you two reached half a decade of love and companionship. He wanted to run back to you, shake you awake and apologize but he knew that would only fuel your anger more, make you resent him. Phil settled in on the couch and tried to sleep, tossing and turning before he fell into a listless sleep, guilty and melancholy.

In the morning, when the sun broke through your window, you groaned. It was a new day, a day when you weren’t sure if Phil was going to be in your shared living room or not. If it were you the couch would be empty and not slept in, but it was Phil. You didn’t think he would leave you in the dead of night, but you also didn’t think that he would forget your anniversary, either. As you dressed for your day you smiled bitterly at your reflection.

Maybe you didn’t know Phil as well as you thought.

As soon as you opened the door and stepped out into your living room Phil sprung up from the couch, face panicked and pale. He held his hands up when you glared at him, the frigid air from your stare causing shivers to run down his spine.

“What?” Your voice was as icy as your stare, “What do you want?”

“I want to say sorry,” He started, “Because it was shit of me to forget and I don’t- I don’t even understand how I forgot or why I got so mad at you last night, because you have the right to be angry; It’s just, Dan really wanted me there for him.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I wanted you here, for me, for us, Phil!”

“And I know that!” You tossed your hands in the air and rolled your eyes, “I do!”

“Sure fucking feels like it. It’s always Dan, and it it’s not Dan it’s fucking Youtube.” Phil scoffed and shook his head, “And don’t you try and tell me if Dan doesn’t need you, then you need to film, or you need to have a liveshow,” Your bitterness was rolling over your tongue, rearing it’s ugly head.

“Of course,” He snarled your name, “It’s my job! I have to do my job! What do you want me to do, make less videos? I love making videos.” You shook your head and sighed, feeling near tears again.

“I want you to love me!” You screamed, voice rubbing raw against your feelings, “I want you to make me a priority like you make your fans a priority! I’ve been with you for five years of my life, and I get Youtube has been there for almost ten, or eleven, I can’t remember but I still feel like I’m your dirty fucking mistress!” Your voice broke with its shrillness, Phil’s face falling.

“I- I didn’t know you felt like that.” You threw your hands up and stalked to the kitchen.

“Of course you didn’t. When was the last time you actually talked to me? I was hoping that on our anniversary we could sit down and have a nice dinner and talk, like normal couples do, but I guess I was wrong.” Phil followed you and stood back as you leaned against the counter, bare arms pressed to the cool surface, “I guess I was wrong about a lot of things.”

“What does that mean?” Phil whispered. He reached out for you but pulled his arm back before he could spread the blue all over your body by wiping it off of his fingertips.

“It means, I thought you loved me. I thought I could get over coming in second place to a video service on the internet. I thought that, one day, you’d fall as in love with me as I am with you.” Phil made a choking noise and the tears spilled over onto his cheekbones.

“I do love you,” You straightened and turned around, teeth grinding together with a stoic look on your face.

“I’m telling you- it doesn’t feel like it. It’s never felt like it. I always feel like I’m coming in second to your fans, the ones who write about you, make videos dedicated to you, buy your stuff. And I’m happy for you, because I know they make you happy but I feel like I’m not making you happy. I feel like your fans make you happier by tweeting at you than I do when you get into bed with me to sleep at night.” Phil whispered your name, wiping his face with the sweaty palm of his hands.

“I never wanted you to feel that way,” He confessed, “But I guess I knew you would. I knew that when a relationship got serious that Youtube would be a threat. I’m sorry. I’ll cut down, or we can make more videos together, so you feel included. But I promise I’ll be better, and I’m taking you out tonight. I know it can’t make me missing our anniversary better, but I want to and I love you.” You nodded, wrapping your arms around your torso to keep it together.

  
“How can I believe you?” You whispered, desperately wanting to but not knowing if Phil meant what he said. Phil approached you and pressed a chaste kiss to your mouth, wrapping his arms around you. You felt him painting you blue with his love, different than when he did with his words in the bedroom the night prior.

“I promise,” He whispered, lips barely moving across the skin on your neck as he hugged you close to him, “I promise to love you, I promise to cherish you, I promise to make time for you, okay?” You nodded, closing your eyes and relaxing into Phil’s chest. “I love you, so damn much.”


End file.
